


Take Me Like a Woman

by TranscientNight



Series: Home is where the heart is [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M, Post-Episode: s03e07 Civil Defense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25429921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TranscientNight/pseuds/TranscientNight
Summary: After the events of Civil Defense, Dukat has a score to set with Garak. Somehow, sex.
Relationships: Dukat/Elim Garak
Series: Home is where the heart is [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981691
Kudos: 15





	Take Me Like a Woman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CastellanGarak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastellanGarak/gifts).



> Garak uses they/them pronouns in this fic.  
> Also tails.

The time was 25:00 and it was the perfect time to enjoy a cup of Redleaf tea. Most inhabitants of the station were fast asleep, but Garak the tailor-not-a-spy was warming his hands around the glazed vessel holding their now-lukewarm drink. A little respite after the hectic activity that had taken place hours before, and a moment to appreciate being still alive after the entire station very nearly blew up. It was odd, this feeling of being back to normalcy, Garak thought as they sipped the last remainders of their tea. The walls didn’t seem any different from before…

Sunken deep in their contemplation of their flat, the tailor didn’t hear the door opening and was startled like a cat when a booming voice barked behind them.

“GARAK!”

Defying the station’s artificial gravity for a handful of jumpy seconds, the tailor juggled with their empty cup as they turned back in a fright to face the intruder. Dukat was certainly pleased with that sight and that look of utter confusion and offense.

“And what are  _ you _ doing here!?” the former interrogator skipped ahead to the questions. “How did you come in?”

“I opened the door, of course,” Dukat sneered, a smug expression of authoritarian confidence plastered over his face.

“How good that you know where the door is because that’s where you’re going through right now,” Garak was unamused as they set their cup on the small table by the window. “Get out of here this instant.”

“Oh, but I don’t intend to leave before I’ve punched a message in that head of yours,” Dukat darkened as he approached and shoved Garak against the wall, holding them by the collar and glaring into the blue of their eyes.

“And what would that be?” Garak acted unimpressed.

“It’s quite simple, really:  _ stay out of my way _ . And don’t you dare stand between me and Major Kira ever again.”

“That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard come from your mouth,” Garak rolled their eyes and with a sudden move pushed back against the military officer, tackling his ankle to make him lose balance and swirl him back against the wall, efficiently inverting their position.

“What’s this now?” Dukat scoffed, although he’d just gotten precisely what he’d come looking for – more of this strange sensation he’d felt when Garak had so unashamedly exposed his attempt to flirt with Major Kira earlier that day. “You’re not going to defend the Major, are you now?” he chuckled, acutely aware that the tailor’s gaze had somehow landed on his darkening neckscales.

“That’s not the point,” Garak rasped, trying but failing to unlock their eyes from the strong, well-defined scales. The way their pigmentation subtly changed was mesmerizing – if only that neck could have supported a much brighter and entrancing mind, how things could have been different, Garak couldn’t help but think.

A chuckle cut the thoughts short.

“I get it now,” Dukat grinned, “you’re  _ jealous _ . Oh, Garak…” he shook his head a bit, making his scales dance elegantly, “you’re not concerned about me being indiscrete with the Major, you wish I were indiscrete with you. I seem to recall you  _ do _ have a taste for indiscretions, hm?” he teased.

“That’s enough!” Garak opposed.

“Your neck says otherwise,” Dukat passed a finger on the ridge, outlining the darkening scales. “You know what? This is such a bountiful revelation that I’ll indulge you if you just ask for it.”

“I’m afraid you can’t read a man’s scales at all,” Garak theethed. “The only desire I have is to stuff that mouth of yours shut.”

“With your dick,” Dukat completed.

A vivid mental image flashed in Garak’s fertile mind and Dukat could well see just what the tailor might be imagining.

“I’d let you,” he dared the other and felt himself getting hotter in his pants. “You hate it, but you  _ do  _ want to fuck me. And I’d let you. Just this once,” he delightfully observed the torment of his words painting itself on Garak’s neck.

“Do you mean to tell me that you,  _ Gul Dukat _ , son of  _ Procal Dukat _ , would let me take you like a  _ woman _ ?” Garak’s eyes were all but eaten by the blackness of his pupils.

“In your words, yes,” Dukat cleared his throat. True, his father would  _ not _ approve, but since he was dead, he wouldn’t have to ever know about it.

Garak contemplated the situation with both amusement and bemusement, and for a moment, Dukat thought they were going to laugh at his face.

“I’ll do you,” Garak viciously answered, shaping their face in a predatory mask of cruelty out of self-loathing for these unholy desires Dukat woke in them. “I’ll take you like a woman and I’ll be there to see you regretting every inch of it,” they pressed a tigh between Dukat’s legs, feeling the bulge forming there. “What’s started won’t be stopped, but don’t get too eager; that organ of yours won’t be of any use. I never said I was about to act like a gentleman.”

“I doubt you’d manage if you ever tried,” Dukat sneered while unbuckling his belt, “you just don’t have the blood for it.”

“Shut up and get out of your pants,” the former spy ordered, and to their mild surprise, the gul diligently obeyed.

Boots off, pants off, the officer acted perfectly docile as the tailor held up one of his legs and pinned him against the wall. They exchanged looks for a fragile moment while Garak opened their pants to free their own arousal, tail twitching in anticipation. They could feel Dukat’s own tail writhing around their ankle, no doubt for better anchorage.

“Garak…” the gul found himself getting embarrassingly wet in his wait.

“Shut up,” the tailor smacked him against the wall. This was hate, not love, and they were going to keep it clear.

They weren’t sure just why the whole experience was so tantalizing, but Elim Garak had to reckon to themself that they’d rarely had such a hardon with so little foreplay, and there was something extremely erotic about the slight insecurity with which they pressed their tip against Skrain Dukat’s wet and beckoning slit, probing the entrance with a beginner’s fever. Dukat too felt exalted as he let himself be explored. This was something new to him, something he’d wondered about at times but never dared to indulge in before, and he could barely believe just how welcoming his hole was to his enemy’s dick.

He gasped.

It all felt so soft, and yet there was something sparkling with rippling sensations in his slick velvet and wet darkness. Although he wasn’t sure how it happened, he felt himself clenching around Garak’s cock and their eyes met again. Dukat’s mouth felt oddly dry and he licked his lips nervously, trying not to moan in pleasure but failing terribly so as he couldn’t help but writhe, and his hands were magnetically drawn to Garak’s neck – just to anchor himself better, he tried to persuade himself, but he knew his own lies too well. He was a breathy mess.

“Are you enjoying being a woman?” Garak asked in a surprisingly hoarse voice.

“Oh, yes,” Dukat whined, then realized what the question had been and grunted dangerously: “You get that stupid smile off your face this instant or I’m so going to kill you.”

“What? With that little  _ phaser _ of yours?” Garak thrusted him in deeper and tore a pathetic little sound of pleasure out of him. “I’m surprised you could father that many kids with such a tiny shooting range,” the tailor mercilessly teased him, noting with curiosity how the words oddly seemed to entice Dukat. “You like being shamed, do you?” they wagered a guess

“Fuck you and just fuck me, Garak!” Skrain Dukat moaned, thrusting himself on that infuriatingly good cock while his own remained slick but painfully untouched.

Garak chuckled at the reaction and indulged himself, tasting that neck again, swirling his tongue over the intricacy of the scales, and going over their creases and reliefs up to the ear. More scales to nibble on, a jaw to follow, a needy mouth to inva-

They stopped themself just in time.

“What do you think you were about to do, you arrogant prick!?” Dukat barked although Garak could have sworn those same lips that berated them now had beckoned them just a second before.

There was a breathy silence, etched in awkwardness and need. They were looking in each other’s eyes again and the moment was growing more and more fragile as the glass ceiling separating them seemed to be thinning like ice under the fire of their lust. Hips thrusting, hips writhing, tails swirling and clinging.

“This is so good…” the words fell from Dukat’s lips and Garak caught them in their own.

“You like it. You’re liking it so much…”

“I’m not,” the officer clenched his teeth and his cunt, squeezing Garak in his burning embrace and pretending this was all just a punishment. “You’re the one enjoying it, you’re the one who’s attracted to me. I can’t fault you for that, but now that I’ve made my point clear, this- this is over. Pull out,” he willed himself to say.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to let me go first,” Garak eyed at his hands and tail holding them firmly in their grasp, and grinned. “I’ll admit I like it if you admit you do too,” they challenged.

Dukat grunted in disapproval, but it was getting harder to think of his pride and reputation when Garak’s cock seemed to be taking a larger and larger place both in his slit and in his thoughts.

“Tell me, Gul Dukat, son of Procal Dukat…” Garak pressed forth, gazing at him with ravenous blue eyes, “ _ are you liking this? _ This, which I’m doing to you?”

“You filthy tailor…” Dukat couldn’t help but feel increasingly high on the disorderliness of this whole happening.

“Filthy tailor maybe, but I’m dick deep inside you,” Garak too was drawing a certain enjoyment from it all.

“You are… ah-!” Dukat couldn’t contain himself anymore, “You’re fucking me so good!”

“And you’re so dripping wet, I think you’re the filthy one here…” the tailor heaved close to his mouth again.

“I like it alright, I’ve never had this before and I-” the officer gulped, “I  _ love _ it,” he snarled and groaned louder yet as cum drizzled from his dick before shooting up more generously, splattering the both of them. “Molt and scales, Garak…!” his voice got caught in his throat when Garak caught his lips at last, kissing them, biting them as much, and moaning through it all in the flurry of climax.

Dukat let them do, eyelids flickering as yet another wave of pleasure came crashing down on him as Garak brought a high tide in his slit. Fluids poured and mixed and slushed out when there wasn’t enough space left to contain them, and that sparkling ripple beneath Skrain Dukat’s dick swallowed him whole into a sea of ecstasy. He shivered, trembled, shouted and clung to Garak with all his muscles, dizzied and almost terrified by the intensity of the pleasure that engulfed him. The tailor was nearly as shocked –  _ And that’s how I kill him _ , they thought for a moment, and for the first time, Garak found themself concerned for their enemy. As strange as the realization was, they’d rather not lose Dukat. Not yet, at least.

The officer had a look of confusion as he emerged from the chemical chaos within him, and he blinked at Garak. The glass ceiling had thawed away and they were both confused by what they saw in each other’s eyes. But then they caught their breath and the glass between them reformed, as thick as ever, or so they pretended.

“That was disgusting,” Dukat snorted at Garak.

“Just take yourself and your mess out of here,” the tailor snarled and removed himself, snapping out of Dukat’s grasp.

“What- but-” the military officer scoffed and blinked, glancing toward the bathroom.

“You heard me, get dressed and get out,” Garak pulled up their pants and gestured at the door. “Or I can dispose of these,” they glanced at the other’s clothes and shrugged. “It’s up to you if you’d rather everybody knew that Gul Dukat had himself fucked like a woman.”

The gul sneered but complied, putting his clothes on again. Once they were both dressed, everything was as it always was before, except nothing was the same anymore. Dukat walked at the door and stopped to glance back at Garak, almost intent to say something although he wasn’t sure what. Garak looked at him pointedly, or maybe expectantly, and the situation felt too strange, so Dukat rapidly drew his phaser and fired at his host, stunning him instantly.

“And don’t you ever gloat about this or liken me a woman,  _ tailor _ ,” was all he had to say before storming out.


End file.
